Tag: Adoption

My mom died a month ago, I almost went to jail and I found her baby brother the day after she died…..

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Mom passed 4 days before her 78th birthday party. It was horrible, distressing, and not what I thought. She had been living in a local assisted living facility for 2 years. She chose Hospice in October of 2017 when her kidneys failed because of the medicine needed for her heart failure and lung disease. She refused dialysis and anything further.

She was doing pretty good the week before she died. On the Thursday, she called bingo. On Friday, I noticed she was air hungry and called her hospice nurse, and we switched to a partial non rebreather mask. We ate ( picked ) at food in the dining room on Friday. Saturday she seemed weaker and her handwriting had changed. The occasional jerks of her arms and hands were becoming very frequent and she kept tossing whatever she was trying to hold. Sunday, we had awful weather, with tornados. She had either a stroke or TIA that day. She also aspirated some juice. I gave her double breathing treatments. I kissed her after feeding her dinner and put her to bed. Monday I went back early. I found her in a recliner, with blood on her cheek and all of her beading on the floor. She couldn’t talk much. I didn’t find out who moved her and why. I assumed she had a seizure and bit her tongue. I cleaned her up and called the hospice nurse to come.

Here is where it all went to hell. My children and husband were there. Hospice was there. Mom would only say ” it’s alright ” over and over. Her mouth was drooping.

Suddenly, administrator and ” nurse ” entered her room. I told them to get out. They refused. They start making up policies they wouldn’t show us. ( Fake lies ). They wanted me to sign a paper saying my mom gave herself all of her meds !?!? What ?? I refused. I told them I wouldn’t lie , forge or lose my nursing license because of them. Mom could do nothing at this time. Mind you , she had been in hospice for 5 months! They suddenly want to dictate what we do ?

SO , they called the police on us. The officer was kind and said he ” didn’t see anything ” out of order. I left that night because they made me.

Next morning, Tuesday, I’m curled up in her hospital bed , playing her music and kissing her. Adult Protective Services’s comes. They asked to speak to us outside of her room. We all refused. I wasn’t leaving her for a second. She died Tuesday night at 5:07. A crematory came for her as was her wishes. I was broken. It didn’t stop there. Wednesday morning the crematory called me. My mom had been picked up by the state crime lab !! They were accusing me of hurting her. I was destroyed by this. I was terrified. I have seen too many shows where innocent people go to jail. Autopsy is something we don’t do because of our religion, unless there is a crime. The death certificate was issued and said she died of natural causes.

They ( the ALF ) did all of this because we didn’t like them or their care. They did it out of hatred and evilness. Hospice was wonderful, they formed a cocoon of safety around our family and mom.

Let me be clear. Mom took her own meds until she stroked. Starting on Monday, hospice became constant care and they gave the meds. Morphine, fentanyl and other drugs.

I was afraid to be left alone. I didn’t know if the police were coming. My husband and son constantly stayed with me. The terror and fear lasted a week. I was also grieving my mom.

The day after she died , I received an email from AncestryDNA. Close family, 1667 shared segments. Who was this ? It was her baby brother she never knew of and he didn’t know he was adopted at age 70! I had found her family about 6 years ago , but no one knew of this brother. Mom would have loved to meet him.

So , that’s where I’ve been. Trying to figure out how to live without her. I haven’t gone through her things yet. I sleep with her quilt and her keys. This is the hardest thing I’ve done. I miss you Mom.

2018 was the year that Hope died ….

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Huge long deep sigh. The New Year has come and gone and I don’t do resolutions. I do look back and see what 2018 brought. Though it was and remains extremely painful, I grew. The last time I cried was when Baby O was born last year. He’s my fifth grandchild I’ll never know. In the last two weeks, both D and R had birthdays. I’m grateful she allows me to watch their life. Too many of us can’t do even that.

It was agonizing when I first felt the shift of truly believing her no about meeting me. For some reason, my heart finally accepted that is my reality. Numbness took over , probably a safety thing. No matter how many times she rebuffed me , I held on to hope for life.

Slowly, painfully , I believed everything she said. I realized my many mistakes and wished I had approached reunion differently. I didn’t know what I do now back then. It’s been 10 years since the first no , and her being a wife and mother didn’t change her mind as so many told me she would.

Trauma therapy has helped tremendously. I learned that only I have the power to react to something. I chose not to. She has every right to refuse me. She didn’t choose any of this. I discovered that I was acting like a Privileged Adoptive Parent. I felt she was mine. Realizing that was a type of ownership, filled me with shame. She owes no one a thing. She has a right to decide who fits in her life and who doesn’t.

She’s beautiful, happy , funny , and a lot like me , though I’m sure she’d disagree. She’s a fabulous mom of 5 amazing children. She is strong in faith and always does everything to perfection.

I don’t think it’s possible to ” get over it “. It’s more a matter of acceptance. She will always be my daughter and I’ll love her forever. But , relationships can’t be one sided. It takes both people to be brave Enough to take the chance that something wonderful could happen.

I see her post on many things I want to comment on. She wonders where this and that came from. I doubt she even thinks of me. That’s okay. She’s a busy mom , leader in her church and business owner. She needs to be totally present for her family.

My raised daughter is in a wonderful reunion with her. I’m beyond grateful. I do wish she’d contact her brother. But , I’m sure she has her reasons.

This month starts my season of reliving losing her. Of waited for the rescue that never came. The countdown to something I never thought would truly happen. I believed with all of my heart I’d keep her. I was in the minority of never wanting to go into labor.

I decided this past year to pour every bit of love I felt into my raised children, her full siblings. I realized that by focusing so much on her , I might be making them feel they weren’t Enough. I had to break the cycle. Adoption affects generations. My parents are adopted.

I spit into tubes and sent them in. I wanted to know who I was. So many children of adoptees don’t know. We have many autoimmune illnesses in our family and I wanted to make sure I was ready. We are Jewish , and there are some diseases that run in that. I felt it was my responsibility to get my kids their information.

This year , the pain is different than the last 32 years. I’m not allowing myself to feel. I just turned it off. My husband said this was my best season yet. My therapist will be happy. Yet , she knows I’m just stuffing it inside. I pray it doesn’t all come out.

As I watch my Sisters have beautiful reunions , my heart is happy for them. Yet , inside I feel the usual aloneness, being one of the few that doesn’t get it. I think a total disconnect is happening.

This has been one of my problems. I overthink everything. I had imagined for years what our reunion would be like. Balloons at the airport, hugs , tears , peace. As I watch my Sisters do reunion, I saw that you never really get them back. Too much lost time. Too many hurts.

So , getting to the point , 2019 will be a year of giving all of my love and attention to those that do love me. I have always loved them , but I see my pain has been hard on them. For that , I’m sorry. I make no promises if I fall. I need to remember that it’s just s bad day , not forever.

I’m forever grateful for all that listened as I sobbed and always thought of me. I know it can be very draining.

I’m taking up photography. My daughter gave me a camera that is really nice. I’m hoping I can become good enough to do justice to things.

Both of my raised children are starting new jobs and I’m proud as can be. They are kind , thoughtful, and patient with me.

So , I wish you a loving wonderful year. You deserve it and you are Enough. Please believe me. Don’t listen to the poison of your past.

Thank you for supporting me. I couldn’t do this without you.

ILUTM ❤️❤️❤️.

Forgiveness for my Mother that took my Firstborn…..

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This has been a very long road. It hasn’t been just the 32 years that she wouldn’t let me keep my first born daughter. I’ve been angry with Mom since she made Dad go away. Of course she didn’t actually do that , but to a 10 year old girl , it certainly felt like that. Only now am I understanding that He left US. We didn’t fail , he did. As to why he left , I’ll leave that for another day. Today is about my Mom.

They say holding on to anger only poisons you. I have found that to be true. I was so mad at her for my perception that she didn’t love either of us enough to save us. That she could have rescued me , but chose not to. I didn’t see that she simply didn’t have the tools to know what to do.

Mom was with Dad since high school. They are both adopted. She had never been on her own or felt like she was enough. How could she possibly feel she was enough to save her daughter and granddaughter? In my pain I only saw her betrayal and my grief. I didn’t consider the trauma she had been through herself. That everyone she had loved had left her. Adoptees have taught me much.

After I married my lost daughters dad and had her sister, we moved from California to Georgia for his first real job. I was glad to leave, my lost daughter was there and it killed me daily knowing that. I worried about her daily ( hourly ) and this would be a new start. I was only lying to myself. The abuse I had in California came with us to Georgia. It was easier to hide but I was completely alone. Once when he kicked me in the head with his steel toed boots , I didn’t go to the hospital, though I know I needed it. I was terrified they’d take my precious daughter and I had no one to call. I stayed silent.

Shame and silence are companions that protect each other. I struggled to be a good wife and mother and tried to shield my daughter from his fits of rage. He never hurt her and loved her dearly and that was enough. I didn’t matter. I so wanted to prove that I was doing everything well. I wanted the cloak of shame to disappear. It didn’t.

About 17 years ago my mom became too ill to live alone. She moved in with me and my new husband and my daughter and young son. I’d had him shortly before my divorce. Living with the women I felt had destroyed my life was anything but easy. I ranted and sobbed as my lost daughter grew up. I blamed my mom for me never meeting my daughter. I was wrong. It had nothing to do with her and only recently did I discover in therapy that how could I expect forgiveness from my daughter when I wouldn’t grant it to my mom. I had to see my mom as a person , not as the enemy. She moved into assisted living two years ago. I feel that helped a lot. The distance gave me a chance to breathe.

I saw my mom differently as time went on. I saw she loved me dearly and regretted what had happened. I let her love me , finally. That was a huge step for me. Feeling So unlovable is prominent in me. But , I sobbed on her many a night. I am fiercely protective of her as I often felt I had raised her. Dysfunctional much ? Yep.

My moms health is getting much worse of late and fear has grabbed me inside thinking she will soon be gone. I knew I had to fix this Now. She had always loved me and though she wasn’t the mom everyone dreams of in their childhood, she was mine. I’ve watched too many Sisters in Adoptionland find graves. If they could forgive, so could I.

She made quilts for each baby she’d never meet. She atoned as she listened to me wail in primal screams of missing my daughter. She rocked me as I sobbed for what should have been and never will. If I was truly going to own my own story , I could no longer blame her. I accepted my fait and decided I had to find a way.

Her kidneys are now failing and I don’t know how much longer she’ll be here. She has refused all heroic measures. Both of her adopted parents killed them selves. She was abused. She was a victim, too.

I know how hard it is. Our parents are supposed to save us. Mine didn’t. But , they are humans not magical. They make mistakes, some huge. I knew I didn’t need one more ounce of grief and regret. I accepted that she was sorry she didn’t help me. I know it wasn’t out of meanness, but out of not knowing what to do. It took me years to see her as an Adoptee, as one of my Sisters.

As her time here grows to an end , I don’t want it to be full of sadness , but of love. She deserves so much more. I hope I’m up to the task of letting her know that. I’m trying to be more present and not live in the past. It’s very hard when you’ve had the trauma, but she’s worth it. How can I expect both of my daughters to truly love and respect me if I don’t give that to my Mom?

Healing and forgiving are messy and painful. You stumble a lot and it takes time and effort. But , I believe it’s worth it. She is worth it. She has been enough and it’s time she knew it.

I love you Mom. You did your best. You have an amazing legacy and I’m grateful you were in my life all of these years. Don’t go just yet. I’m not done loving you.

When you feel you’re the only one that lives at the Therapist and what happened after that appointment….. raw

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I’m at my trauma therapist right now. We are going to do EMDR and dig deep. I’m so nervous. Growing and learning about my trauma and loss isn’t easy. It sometimes hurts like hell. Denying that my parents hurt me has been the ” easy” way. I’m so used to self- loathing, to shame , to never being Enough and to people I love leaving. Exploring all of that is painful.Flash to now: About 18 hours post session. We dug out horrible, disgusting pieces yesterday. Pieces that I’ve never verbalized. Shame fills me even now. I wish I undo it all. After therapy yesterday, I felt spent and tired. Went home , started dinner and my stomach went full on IBS. My back that has stopped hurting, zapped me again with electricity. Of note is that during this time , my mom found out yesterday she’s dying sooner than she thought. Another post. I had a lot of Cbd last night. I felt wonderful. Still noticed areas of pain , but not severe. Still no thoughts on therapy. Isn’t dissociate great ? They came. Whether in vivid dreams or awake in the dark. Reliving awful painful events. Dark secrets meant to drown in the dark. Woke up with a severe migraine this morning. Nausea and diarrhea. Thought of all I was and did. Also , who I am now. I’ve lived my second life atoning every second. Forgiveness isn’t allowed. Self sentencing at its finest. Took a lot more Cbd. Head doesn’t hurt. Numb. Alive. Existing. This post was started on another topic. Obviously, the therapy took it somewhere else.

Yesterday I was the Tooth fairy for my Mom…

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Caring for your elderly parents is never easy , and the added difficulty of them causing the biggest trauma in your life sure complicates it even more. My parents wouldn’t let me keep my firstborn, their first grandchild. I’ll never completely understand it. But , they are Adopted and I know that played a huge role.

My mom moved out from the west coast right after 911. She lived with us for 15 years until moving into assisted living 2 years ago. That was not easy having my mom in my home as everything collapsed around me. She heard my truth and watched me dissolve after a rejected reunion. I lashed out , as the teen that had her daughter ripped away. I said many things I’m not proud of and I know I wanted her to SEE what she had done.

She witnessed the turmoil in my family as my raised children, all full siblings with my lost daughter, reacted to adoption. It wasn’t pretty and almost destroyed us all. We are all still working on it and probably will for the rest of my life.

There came a time that I knew I had to forgive her. She had a horrible childhood and just didn’t know how to parent. I knew I wanted to be everything she wasn’t. If only life was that easy. Call it fait , karma , or whatever is easier. Dysfunctional families continue, though not necessarily in the same way or degree.

Learning to forgive her has been a process. I had to see her as the adopted child she was , and not the neglectful parent she had been. She simply didn’t have the tools to raise my brother and me.

As she reaches the end of her life , I don’t want regrets. I try to be a good loving daughter. I fail on occasion.

Yesterday at the doctor, we were checking her out post shoulder replacement. Her front tooth was ” flapping ” as she called it. I asked if she wanted it out. She did. And , in a second it was gone. She was shocked on how I knew what to do.

Memories came flashing back. She never pulled my teeth , brushed my hair or any of the mom things most had. I raised myself and little brother. She simply checked out on our childhood when dad left.

I know if I don’t forgive her and love her , I’ll be forever guilt ridden. I do not need one more drop of guilt or regret in my life. She doesn’t remember most of my life and has dementia now.

So I run her errands, take her to doctors and try to involve her in things she likes. I try to be who I needed her to be. She’s always pleasant and grateful and I feel extreme guilt wherever I fail.

Adoption made us orphans when they took our babies. So ironic how that worked out that way. I’m trying to forgive daily. For me and for them.

If you need me , I’ll be playing tooth fairy, and fixing my moms hair. Love means going through the pain to get to the good stuff.

Father’s Day has come and gone…

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Father’s Day has been hard for me for some time. My Dad , an adoptee, eliminated me from his life and his heart. It’s been 10 years since I’ve seen him, and he just stopped loving me. No explanation, nothing.

He abandoned me at age 10 when he left my mom. We had occasional visits, but he liked to take my brother and me to the movies. I truly feel that he didn’t have to interact with us on those visits.

He also wrote off my children, except one. My lost daughter, that he wouldn’t allow me to keep. He’s in her life, and though that hurts , I’m happy for them. I’m sad for her siblings. He’s missing out on two amazing people.

Dad was always my hero. I completely adored him. I still love him with all of my heart. It’s taken years to accept he wants no part of me. The hardest part is I don’t have a reason. He just stopped loving me. How do people do that?

He’s great friends with my ex husband and his wife. That was a difficult thing to swallow. Being so easily replaced. Not knowing why hurt and confused me. I’ll never know.

I wish him Happy Father’s Day every year on FB. We aren’t friends, so I doubt he sees it. I don’t think he ever wanted children and this was his way out.

I wish he’d explain it to me. Understanding makes things easier to accept. It’s the wondering and going over each event that hurts. If I knew why , maybe I could fix it. Wishful thinking at its best.

I love you Dad. Always have and always will. I hope you had a wonderful day. I didn’t call or text because I know that is your wishes.

Life is short. Forgive often and love one another. I’ll always love you.

I’m not Adopted, But I’m Listening to them…

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The short version of my story: I lost my daughter 32 years ago against my will. My parents decided it was best. My parents are both Adopted, but I didn’t think of the connection until a few years ago. All of my 3 children are full siblings and I married my lost daughter’s Father 2 years later and had my daughter and my son. We have since divorced. She has refused reunion with me , but has a wonderful relationship with her sister. She is married and just had her fifth child.

No filter here. I lost it the day that precious boy was born. I was heartbroken for me, ecstatic for her, and a complete disaster. Not one of my proudest days. All I could think about was my loss. Every time she has a baby, it felt like I lost her again. PTSD isn’t forgiving to oneself .

I was once again missing them and her and felt I would drown in the powerlessness. After my breakdown, I thought long and hard and kept reading from the Amazing Adoptees. I ended up being so ashamed of myself.

I had my epiphany suddenly! I felt entitled!! I was no better than the adoptive parents that believe they are owed a child. She doesn’t owe me anything! None of this was her choice and promises not kept weren’t made by her. This was huge.

Am I ” over it”? NO. I’m only now just beginning to understand. I’ll never be over her. She’s my daughter and I’ll love her until my last breath. But, she has no obligation to me. None.

I was stuck at 18 for so long , that the pain paralyzed me. If I didn’t clutch her memory, I felt empty. The only moments I had with her lasted less than 24 hours.

My goal now is to enjoy how happy she is. Even though I’ll never meet her, she has a wonderful life. She’s the happy Adoptee. And, would I want her to be unhappy? Never!

I thought about some of our messages over the years and I owe her the biggest apology. In my dream scenario, she’s missing me. She’s not. Why would she ? I’m a stranger. I’m the mother of her sister and that is all.

I’m making tiny baby steps with the support of my Sisters in Adoptionland. I’m growing, ever so slowly, but , it’s a start. Instead of living in the past, I am looking toward the future. The pain isn’t a constant torture. I think of her daily and pray for her and her family.

Adoptees taught me so many things about myself and her. I’m forever grateful for our Sisterhood. ❤️. Wish me luck 💕

I hope that maybe one day, I’ll shine more than I break. One day at a time is the only way to navigate this for my journey.

Triggers and Dissociation….

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I find this is my pattern now. It’s somewhat safe, and doesn’t bother those around me. Feeling, remembering, reliving, and all that goes with adoption and childhood trauma is exhausting for those that are in your life. Being numb as possible lightens the load of acting like ” I’m Fine”.

What can a person say to you when you’re crumbling, trying to breathe and hoping lightening will strike you? I’m sorry. It puts you and them in a helpless situation. Everyone knows my story, probably far too well. And, I’ve found that the way my life ended up causes them anxiety. I hate that. Their story may have a much greater ending than mine.

They will have a reunion, meet their adult child and get to hold them, smell them and gaze at their hands. Sounds strange? Can you imagine carrying your baby and having your parents tell you that she’s not welcome? That you shamed them. We want to see them with every breath we take.

Triggers such as Birthdays, new grand babies being born and marriage cause many of us to crash. All the things we thought we’d be part of we aren’t. Though 96% of Adoptees do want contact , there are the 4%. I’m one of them.

You can get caught in woulda, coulda, shoulda for decades. But, the hard truth is you can’t get the time back. You must mourn the baby you lost and for many, do the work for reunion. Even if you are totally prepared, there is no guarantee .

They Adult Adoptee made no promises to us. They don’t owe us anything. We can hope for kindness and a relationship, but don’t hold your breath for that balloon airport meeting.

They often go back and forth. I understand why they do. We abandoned them, even if we didn’t choose to. It’s as simple as that. Why should they trust us? We will probably just leave again, right?

I am stuck , as my therapist says, at the time I lost her. The pain, grief, and powerlessness is profound. Yet, if she hadn’t been born, the world wouldn’t be as wonderful for her and her family. She’s an amazing mommy. I’m so proud of her. I saw just that picture of her new son and knew that whatever I’ve gone through and will in the future has meaning.

My three children are my legacy. I suppose that caring for the critically ill for more than 25 years is a legacy, too. I did something that mattered, and it has to be enough. I lay no claim to their success’s. They have done so well on their own.

I’ve disconnected from this life. I feel far away. It’s safer that way. Just mark the days and expect Nothing. No disappointment can get me anymore if you have no hope.

I’ll continue to help other Moms and children. I will be here for my Adoptee Sisters , too. Adoptionland is huge and I’m an old pro at this. I’ll be past 70 when this new baby grows up. If I’m still here. No matter. I honestly think I’ve done my part.

Others expectations of me are exhausting and I’m too sick for all of this. It’s dramatically impacted my health. Autoimmune diseases are very high among those impacted by adoption. The body can only take so much pain.

I pray for those struggling and it breaks my heart every time I hear we lost another Sister. Adoptees are 4 times more likely to commit Suicide than those not adopted according to the American Pediatric Society.

I don’t think I’ll see a change to Adoption in my lifetime. I pray it changes and only happens when there is NO other way. Guardianship is a way to help children without them losing their identity and history. No more fake birth certificates that say the Adopters gave birth. No more sealed records for adults that want to know their origin.

Sweet dreams tonight. I’ll be up wishing I could change so many things. I’m over 30 years into this and my brain still tries to find a way out of this continuous nightmare. It’s futile. As my beloved Nana would tell me, ” What is, is”.

It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way…

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My daughter had her beautiful son last week. He has red hair and I’m sure his daddy’s amazing blue eyes. I’ll never meet him, my daughter, or her 4 other children. I’m thrilled for her. I’m broken inside. Another loss to add to the mountain that is sitting on me.

I thought she’d meet me once. Just that one time. It was not to be. Accepting this is a lot like death. My death. I’m struggling so much. I’m trying to act brave , but , to those that do love me I’m not fooling anyone.

My heart hurts. It literally hurts. We will see what the echo shows. Honestly, I don’t care. I’ve been extremely ill as has my elderly mother. I’m keeping busy but that’s my MO. Push it all away and it will work out. It won’t. She never wants to meet me ever.

Time isn’t healing the wound of losing your first child. She’s alive and happy and raising her family and I’m so grateful for that. I need to accept the facts my brain knows but my heart is too broken to accept.

The stress of this is literally killing me and it won’t be much of a loss. I’m obviously not needed by anyone. Doctors and tests clutter my week and I simply exist. I just made homemade soup. “I’m fine”.

Tell her I loved her since before she was born if I’m not here. Tell her I’m sorry I believed I wasn’t enough. Tell her I’ve thought of a million ways to have fought them better now. Hug her just once for me. Tell her my name.

Distraction, or die

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Being part of Adoptionland is both a extremely painful place to live and so full of busy things to do. Sadly, you have hundreds of Sisters and Brothers that are on the same journey as you. But, they are literally your lifeline. No one that hasn’t either been abandoned as an Adoptee or had their baby snatched by Adopters knows how the feelings of this impact every area of your life.

Your home life is a mind field that your family tiptoes through every single day. ” Did you see the show on TV last night?”. Oops! It mentioned adoption. Never mind. They don’t remember every trigger day. Who could except someone that feels as you do? There’s the Birthday, the Gotcha Day, the day the open adoption closed, the many birthdays of your grandchildren you’ll never meet, and the second day of rejection. That’s only naming a few. You try to hide your grief because it makes others uncomfortable.

We come up with important projects of help for others, we counsel one another for endless hours, we rejoice if someone gets their miracle, and weep with shame that they were enough and we still aren’t. We go to conferences to both learn to heal and feel we are with family, our adoption family. They won’t judge our tears for they have their own. We blog , we share articles about new laws , and make plans on how to fight them if they are hurtful. We fight every single day to obtain Original Birth Certificates to maybe glean a new fact and know our heritage.

I’ve been taking mini breaks from this world on the advice of my trauma therapist. How can I move one baby step if all I do is think about Adoption? Unfortunately, everything seems and feels like adoption is in vogue and tv and movies theme around it.

I’ve been playing mindless games I swore I’d never do. I search YouTube for videos of people like me. I have a dozen new books written by talented Adoptees that I hope will be the magic balm to heal my stuck heart and mind.

I’ve “met” so many amazing people on this path. People that are far ahead of me in healing and those newbies that are in the fog. The fog, both helpful for not knowing you’re a disaster and horrible because it covers the pain of the truth.

My health is not great and so many of us have autoimmune diseases probably added onto by the trauma and C-Ptsd. When you lose your first baby and it wasn’t something you ever wanted to do or if you were the innocent that were abandoned by your parents, both usually equal a huge break in your life. There is No getting over “it”.

It is both children and parents, siblings and grandchildren. Adoption weaves it’s way through generations and it shows its ugly face at the worst , lowest moments in your life.

I don’t do baby showers. I’ve held my own children and one of my Adoptee Sisters. It’s too huge of a risk that I’ll dissolve into a sobbing wreck of what pretends to be “fine”.

I’m doing genealogy now. It’s both comforting and horribly sad to see all of these people I’ll never know. Loss is a big part of Adoptionland and we have all lost enough. We are usually hyper vigilant about our families and friends. We seek to see if they left us , because everyone else has. Why would they stay? We weren’t enough to love by our own family. My parents didn’t love me enough or their granddaughter to save us. And, my list daughter is about to have her 5th baby. Add another Anniversary to the crowed year of grief that repeats annually.

If you’re reading this and are pregnant, please reach out. If not to me , Familypreservation365@gmail.com

They also have an amazing blog on here to give resources, comfort, and those of us that live this life every moment.

You are enough. All your baby needs is her Mother. ❤️❤️❤️